Esdeath of the German Front
by Rainbowpan uwu
Summary: In the frontlines, there is a general who leads from the front. Her name is whispered in bunkers, revered and feared, by friends and foes alike.
1. chapter 1

Cold air billowed past the creaking door, as a slender hand hesitantly pushed it open. She drifted into a warm corner of the musky bar, somewhere the smell of alcohol and tobacco did not reach.

The bartender looked warily at her unkempt clothes, as she passed him a few marks for a drink.

How long has it been, she had often wondered. She had lost her drive. Perhaps wasting away for inevitable end wouldn't be too bad, better here where it's warm than in a cold alley.

Her thoughts stopped as a man stood on the podium. The entertainment. Her attention garnered when the man spoke.

She had listened, due to boredom at first, it evolved into interest, then curiosity.

His cool tone and tempo drew her in, as it gradually intensified to a crescendo of fervour. She found it . . . resonating.

The man spoke of ideals, of determination, to overcome the struggle and stand undefeated. And when he stopped, the bar was silent.

His charisma, the sheer force of personality felt all too familiar. She had to meet him.

Dawn filtered out the patrons, most walking in a daze. She screened the tables until she saw him, alone.

She stood of to the side and greeted him.

The man looked surprised, and turned to her, "I apologize, could you repeat that?"

She continued in stilted german instead, "I. . . liked speech. You... name?"

He winced at her limited vocabulary, yet replied politely nonetheless, "Thank you miss..."

She pondered, then spoke in a heartbeat, "Esdeath."

The man gave a smile as he gestured to an empty seat, "My name is Adolf Hitler, care to join me?"

 **«Esdeath of the German Front»**

 **«Prologue»**

 _Death is difficult to swallow. Perhaps the cold part of logic in the back of our minds vehemently deny it, rejecting the every possibility to the point of delusion._

 _Maybe that's why. . . she was still alive? She never was this poetic._

 _"Поздравления! Она красивая."_

 _She was hearing nonsense, it brought forth uncomfortable memories of a fever dream; the only one she had._

 _It happened when she first tamed her Imperial Arms. She had put up a strong front, all signs of weakness must be purged. Alas, the crash as she slept was absolutely horrific._

 _Damn it all, she was too tired to think straight. Like the time she had hunted the last of her tribe's murderers- enough._

 _Everything will be alright..._

 _When morning comes._

 **I'm okay.**


	2. Stoß der nacht

Esdeath had no idea what happened. The last thing she could remember was having some drinks with some war veterans, and singing some beer songs. She could already feel the budding migraine of a hangover building. Her alcohol tolerance was woefully lacking it seemed.

She had woken up on a table, face scrunched up against her arms as she tried to block the light from the windows. She stood to stretch out the cramps in her arms, enjoying the slow pull of her muscles.

"Quite the night that was," the familiar voice of the bartender reached her. "You kept it neat enough, I appreciate that."

She opened her eyes and faced him. The beer hall was a little roughed up, with men passed out on the floors and tables. He was sweeping the floor as the first of them stirred awake. She supposed that he could help her get her bearings.

"What..." she gave a light cough from a slightly parched throat, "what happened?"

He paused, and gave her a firm look, "You got drunk, and beat up half the hall, heck. You practically grounded those vets."

He pointed to the pile of men littering the hall.

Esdeath mulled over his words with a thoughtful look before deciding. . . .

She should really stop drinking.

« **Esdeath of the German Front»**

 **«Stoß der nacht»**

 **Schutzstaffel Headquarters, Berlin**

 **September 1925**

It's been five years since she entered Germany. After the few months of political maneuvering, Esdeath firmly planted herself into a seat of power as the militant arm of the DAP. The sudden and tragic deaths of every Weimar official which preceded it was purely coincidental of course. With the need for new government, a quick election was held.

The opposition consisted of the communist party and the social party. They fumbled as news of a power vacuum reached them but by then, the DAP had built up an unstoppable momentum. It took only a year before they stood uncontested, and she had everything to do with it, or so she liked to believe.

Now she spends all her time doing paperwork in her office. It was frustrating really.

"Tell me Heines, have the Russians bitten the bait?" She spoke to the man entering her office.

"Frau Reichsmarschall." He stood at attention in his black uniform as he reached a respectable distance. "Yes, they have. The men are assembled at the airstrip and await your arrival."

She smiled at that, "Excellent! Finally an excuse to leave the capital. Walk with me." She left with almost a skip in her step, humming a song she heard from the radio.

Edmund Heines trailed after her as he broached her a question, "You seem very eager to be deployed. I had never seen you this happy since that time we purged the communist elements."

Esdeath gave an appreciative hum, "Why my dear deputy, it is war. To watch it pass without participating, it would bore me to insanity." She flourished an arm in mock despair, "If only I had not been too thorough. Perhaps a conspiracy or two, a riot could be good. All I ask for is something to do~"

She had stormed, gutted and stomped every dissident group during the earlier rise of the Reich. It was a fun time, although very short lived.

Heines sighed, "My Lady, you were always particular about the Führer's safety. Surely you cannot protect him as well in the field."

"Adolf can take care of himself. He's got Röhm with him either way." She replied, dismissive of his concerns. "Though I do worry."

Her thoughts led back to the cause of the war. They had done a double betrayal with the Soviet Union. By initiating a false flag attack of a failed 'Russian' skirmish into Poland, and leaving 'evidence', the two were on the onset of war before the commies decided to invade anyway. All treaties with them now rendered void.

In the interest of liberating our neighbour, Adolf gathered international support to repel the 'warmongering' state. Sure enough, the world superpowers lent their hands by supplying materials to the 'Stalwart Defenders of Europa'.

It never ceased to amuse her. It was a move reminiscent of Honest. How he would maneuver the courts like an expert conductor. This his was child's play by his standards.

"There is one more thing I must tell you my lady." Heines looked uncomfortable at that. He was never one to embellish the truth, she was accustomed to the subtle tells he gave, and he has quite the strong will. Whatever is on his mind, must be quite unnerving.

"My lady. . . Himmler wishes to observe us." He said, as the door to the entrance opened to reveal the other leader of the SS.

Heinrich Himmler.

Ah Heines, you worry too much.

=

=

Himmler was a recent addition to the SS, he took over all the little problems with policing the populace. His ideals of strength and purity had stuck a chord with her. The bespectacled man was determined, she could tell, although she never had spoken with the man to get to know him personally.

He was silent as he sat across from her, the car lurched forwards as Heines settled in the front seat.

"Tell me Reichsführer, why the sudden interest?" She spoke to break the ice. "You never delved into matters of the army."

He broke off from his thoughts to consider the question, "My lady, I profess my curiosity in matters of your personal instruction. The generals have done well, but this operation is entirely your design. I heard tales of your prowess during the Nights of Red Terror, how you'd hound the communists to the last relentlessly. The tales of your carnage were particularly impressive, especially of the rivers of blood left in your wake."

She was immediately amicable with the man. "You flatter me Himmler. My duty merely required a personal touch, is all." It was more a leisurely stroll through the streets really, and the screams were a pleasant bonus.

"Yes yes. I had visited your interrogation cells before, they truly are a work of art." He was enthusiastic to speak, "Please indulge me, however did you prevent the subjects from expiring too quickly? Your methods should have proved too traumatic and yet, some had withstood weeks under duress."

She realized she hadn't taught anyone about the arts of physical information extraction. There was never a need when the causes were short-lived; but to his question, it was simple in hindsight.

"Of course Himmler," she looked to the window reminiscing, "You would preserve meat with salt would you not?" Her favourite memories easily flowed through, "It stand to reason that you would preserve men to the same effect."

"The main cause of expiry is infection," she continued, "Rotting flesh produce toxins, harmful to the subject and not conductive to interrogation. It would no sooner end it than net you answers. It also, has the benefit of causing pain."

Himmler was taking mental notes as he nodded. "Yes, my doctors have mentioned such, but their Hippocratic oath prevented me from delving further."

Hypocritic oath would be more accurate, Esdeath thought. She recalled how the doctors would cite reasons to withdraw from her services. It wasn't fair, who cares about ethics anyway! Euthanasia is a scam!

"Regardless, Himmler." She diverted, "Do you understand your request? The dangers will be quite severe."

He eased as he replied, "Of course my lady, but I place my faith in your ability to prevent me harm."

She bristled, "And why do you believe I will protect you?"

"We share the same goal." He crossed his hands with a smile.

"Oh, and what would that be?" She asked, curious as to what he will pitch.

He leaned forwards and proposed, "The extermination of the Soviet Union."

Yes, Esdeath thought, That would do.

=

=

To her surprise, Reinhard Heydrich would not be joining them. As Heinrich was her deputy, Heydrich was Himmler's. The man was fiercely competent, and he could often be found not far from Himmler.

He stayed at the driver's seat and watched, as they boarded the refurbished cargo plane.

"Personal orders, at my request." Himmler answered the unasked question.

The plane was just the right size for a small company. She needed 50 men for the upcoming drop. With the Great War fresh in everyone's mind, many volunteered out of hope to change Germany's situation.

The mission was to disrupt supply lines leading into Poland. Expecting an easy war, the Soviets packed lightly, and relied on their massed artillery. Conscripts were rushed into the unprepared streets of east Poland while entrenched positions were bombarded from afar.

The key weakness of the strategy, was that it cut off the forward theatre from the main army group. Supply posts are extremely well guarded, but in an effort to send supplies in the time they were given, they had to fly air fleets to meet the demands.

Which brings them to the current objective, the 'Viehkrieg' airfield. It was a row of hastily built shelters for aircraft and materials. Functional by Russian standards, but no more temporary otherwise. Thirty percent of food and ammunition were estimated to pass through there every week. It would hinder their ability for command, as they rerout and establish new supply lines.

"We're beginning soon, please be seated." She said suddenly.

Heinrich passed him a helmet and sat on an empty seat beside him. Satisfied, she walked into the pilot's cabin.

"All ready general." The Luftwaffe co-pilot reported when he noticed her arrival. She saw the preflight preparations were acceptable and nodded.

Settling in the pilot seat, Esdeath grasped the controls, and moved the plane forwards.

"I didn't realize that you would be flying it." He passed her a headset. She wore it beneath her hat.

"Do you not trust your commander?" She smiled at his troubled face, "You needn't worry, I do know how to fly this plane."

He looked away, somewhat uncomfortable, "As you say general, but I hadn't been briefed on the flight plan."

She delightfully assured him, "It's quite simple really."

"We're crashing this plane."

"Oh." Was his only reply.

 **«Esdeath of The German Front»**

 **«Stoß der Nacht»**

 _The distance was impressive. Heavy wind made it difficult to gauge how to compensate. Snow blanketed the field as it smothered vision and yet. . . . The target shattered as the bullet hit._

 _"Good shooting Nadia." Her father called out as he put down his binoculars._

 _It was her name, her new name. She grew to like it as time passed. Father was a firm man, but he spoiled her too often._

 _He ruffled her hair as he got close._

 _"Dad, you're embarrassing me!" She laughed as she squirmed in his hug._

 _He sat her on his shoulders. "Ah, what will my dear wife think." He joked, "Our daughter, all grown up and rejecting my affections."_

 _She hugged his head, a little somber. "Mother would tell you to stop spoiling me rotten."_

 _He gave a demure chuckle, "That she will child. That she will."_

 _Mother had died during childbirth. She remembered how father would speak fondly in her memory. It was his way of grieving, she hoped._

 _She knew how to cope with loss after all._

 _Reincarnation, she hadn't thought it possible. She was anguished at first. Everything was unfamiliar, strange. She was weak, and it had bothered her the most._

 _She supposed she grew out of her tantrums, but it was still a sore point. Over time she realized, it was another chance._

 _She could start all over again, to live the life she never could._

 _To have a family._

 _She wished she could have met mother. It would complete it all._

 _Her arms tightened as the walk home continued in_ _silence._


	3. Denke Gleich

The Oval Office was a maelstrom of frenzy. Reports flew in and out, concerning the situation brewing with Poland. War was an inevitably, that everyone knew. Yet with the Great War fresh on their minds, none had expected an attack so soon. That the Communists would make a move this early, vilified them towards the international community.

"Mr. President, it's for you." An orderly held out a corded phone.

The rest of the generals and advisors seated in the conference room, were grim faced. Their current worry was the potential shift in power, should the Soviets won. It was impossible for a direct intervention, seeing as America had no ties, nor agreements with the European states. They could only supply weapons and materials needed for a protracted war. But now, not even that could be a valid option.

They were calling it the Great Depression.

Someone had done it, they were sure of that. Maybe a group of insider traders looking for a quick profit, or foreign agents. This was no coincidence.

It would be political suicide to support a war whilst the nation was in a crisis itself. Thousands of people lost their savings when the banks broke down, the number increasing with each second.

"We'll have to be careful. Pull every favor we can," a three star general voiced alone. "Whoever did this can't hide forever, but our situation requires immediate action."

The plan to supply the European states will have to be aborted. They could not spare any resource.

"Gentlemen, I assume that you have plans for our crisis?" The president turned to a group of port bellied men at his side. Economic advisors, as he had been told.

"Yes Mr. President, we can secure the loans to the government after you sign the drafts." As the man droned on, his thoughts fell to the American people. Worry for them, and for the future.

They will recover from this, but it will take time. Until then, a superpower will emerge from a bloody sickle and hammer.

 **«Esdeath of the German Front»**

 **«Denke Gleich»**

From the horizon, the sky dyed orange in the fierce glow of fires. Errant sounds of gunfire echoed throughout the night caused by the sweeps for survivors. And at the centre of it all, a female general stood atop a pile of bodies and rubble.

"You know Himmler, I hadn't thought through the entire plan." Esdeath crossed her arms. "If I cared enough to, we wouldn't have crashed into the communications quarters, although that armory there would make a fine target."

Himmler nodded in agreement, "The Coalition Plan would proceed regardless of your success, Frau Reichsmarchall. Besides, I don't see any merit to capturing it intact."

"That is precisely why you fail-" She paused before correcting herself. "Fear, Reichsführer. The transmitters were tuned to their frequency, now imagine how it can sow the seeds of terror into the upper ranks. They scream quite well given the proper motivation, yes?"

"They" being the moaning piles of flesh on the streets, the result of some very pointed questioning.

"A boast then." Replied Himmler. "Well, I understand we could announce ourselves to the entirety of the Red Army; the retaliatory attacks would no doubt signal the success of the operation to our allies, but I doubt even you could survive it."

The thought certainly crossed her mind, she had wanted to test her mettle against a numerically superior foe. Even though fighting a battalion or two would do wonders as stress relief, she still wanted to prove him wrong.

Still, doubt must be squashed immediately before it grows into mutiny. She couldn't refute him without sounding petulant either way.

The assault is going well. It had been a breeze to overrun the compound. When the plane crash landed, it collapsed the building it hit. Most of the senior officers were stationed in it, to her pleasant surprise. The resistance now comprised of small groups of guards, and a fortified armoury.

"There's nothing left here, follow me." She set her sights on the building.

It was situated at the centre row of the compound, easily accessible to either end of the airstrip. Unfortunately, someone had gotten the smart idea of fortifying it as a desperate measure. Now the armoury sticks out like a sore thumb amidst the other burning buildings.

The perimeter surrounding it was quiet other than the crackling of wood. She gazed at the conflagration and it irked her sensibility.

"Heines!" She barked at her deputy, "Why is that building still up?"

Edmund Heines snapped to attention, "My Lady, the armoury is more structurally sound than estimated. We are waiting for the foundation to collapse, but it seems that damage is merely superficial."

"Yes, I can clearly see that." She drawled on, "Why have you not stormed the building? Are you waiting for them to starve to death?"

The men milled about, aimlessly pointing their rifles at it. This was unacceptable.

"Fine then," snatching his rifle, Esdeath marched towards a group of men.

"You lot, get up. We're storming the building."

She then walked towards it without glancing back at them. The crunch of boots affirming that they heard her order.

The fires were manageable now, she could see the entrance was the only point of entry available. They could make their own if they had brought a tank with them, although its bulk would prove to be a problem. She noted it down for future reference.

6 men were with her, it was enough for her needs. The metal doors to the armoury had been burnt away, all that was left was to enter and clear it out. It is is dangerous to attack an entrenched enemy however, given the proper preparations, every corner could be a potential kill zone. There was a reason she preferred to bomb buildings rather than storm it.

They made her nervous. It reminded her of her vulnerability, how she was not as durable as she had thought herself.

The men filtered in as Esdeath led from the front. No sign of the enemy anywhere, a cursory glance reveals that the foundations were untouched. The building was made from brick and mortar, it must have insulated them from the worst of the heat, they ought to be deeper inside to escape it then.

Steps echoed throughout the corridors as they cautiously checked ever corner. Their search finally ended with a locked door at the end of a hall.

"Break it." The man behind her complied, smashing it with the butt of his rifle and breaking chunks of the wooden door.

She kicked him to the side just before a hail of bullets struck his previous position.

Her rifle snapped up to a man crouched atop a crate, firing at him before taking cover behind the wall.

As they traded fire, she caught a grenade midair and tossed it back in their general direction. A cry of surprise followed by the sound of explosion signaled the chance to enter.

She dashed past the door towards a concussed man who looked important enough, firing her pistol at the few remaining resilient Russians. He got to his feet before being kicked into unconsciousness.

Any form of organized resistance collapsed the moment her men spread out to clean up the rest.

Esdeath gave a small sigh, "This could have been over an hour ago."

She rummaged through the man's jacket while dragging him out.

Just a commissar, not a bad catch, but not that great either. They were chosen for their loyalty, rather than ability. He would not be privy to important information, but it would be good to get a general update.

What greeted her outside were two rows of Soviets, kneeling on the ground. They looked no different from the common soldier, each unremarkable to her eyes.

"You have impeccable timing Reichsmarschall," greeted Himmler.

He turned to face her, breaking off from a discussion with Heines. She hadn't recalled asking for prisoners, to her unspoken question, Himmler spoke to placate her, "I wanted to prove something, if you would indulge me."

She dropped the commissar, crossing her arms. "Go ahead, explain."

"Before we begin, would you help me speak to them? My Slavic is not too well."

She quirked an eyebrow at the subtle implication, "Why not."

He smiled, "Never have I met a more ignoble race than the Jew. They are filthy, deceitful creatures that corrupt our youth with degeneracy. I have but utmost contempt for them."

"Tell me, have you ever spoken with one?" He poised the question.

"Not to my knowledge, no." She wondered what his point was.

"Perfect, I have screened these prisoners for Jewish features and behaviors, can you tell them apart?"

She scrutinised them carefully for a while, but no matter how hard she tried, they were too similar to differentiate.

"They act so well like people," Himmler mused. "Take away any need to look civil however, and you will see them for what they truly are."

He walked up to the row on the right.

"Relay this to them." He then signaled to the group of men behind the prisoners, whom began readying their rifles.

 _"Congratulations gentlemen, you have been given a chance for freedom."_ She said, parroting him in Russian. _"Name the Jews, and you shall be free."_

They were hesitant, some mutinous eyes wandering were around calculating the chances for escape.

And yet, none said a word.

"Then so be it." He muttered as he walked to the left. "You lot, tell me who they are!"

Immediately after she spoke for him, the line roared with accusations. _"Them! Them!" "They are the Jews!" "Kill them not us!" "We are Bolshevik people!"_

They pointed and sneered at the line across eliciting looks of confusion and betrayal from the right.

She could tell apart lies through her memories of political entanglement, and the left had panicked as if cornered.

 _"Liars them all!" "They are the Jews!"_ The ones on the right retaliated. _"We are unlike those swine over there!"_

"Look how they lied and turned on their 'comrades'." Himmler turned to her with a smirk, "Those who they view as cattle, their 'slaves'."

He continued speaking, "In the end, they show their nature. That of creatures in human skin. What do you think general?"

What was the point of this? She couldn't understand, she could get the gist of it but it was . . . bizarre. No, it was utterly incomprehensible.

"Your orders my Lady?" Edmund Heines spoke up from behind her over the increasingly loud rabble.

They were all weak. She couldn't tell the difference. The weak must be purged.

That was all that mattered.

"Kill them all," she spoke, and the night heard it's last cries smothered by gunfire.

 **«Esdeath of the German Front»**

 **«Denke Gleich»**

 _Her heart was beating rapidly when she heard the news._ _There was a change of regime and the purge had begun._ _With the death of Lennin, General Secretary Stalin rose to the seat of power. The old guard weren't happy with that. They would bicker over the everything, leveraging their bureaucratic weight and hinder plans differing from their vision for the state. In light of the fragmented state of government, a question was poised to the Kremlin._ _Stalin's solution was a top down purge of all levels of government. It was a simple, Russian solution._ _Which spelled problems considering that father was a minor official, and that meant that everyone in the Union was now an enemy to be hunted._ _She had wanted to test how she would fare against the common man. Unfortunately, father had chosen to flee to the North-West border instead._ _"I see a truck," he whispered._ _She propped up the Mosin, looking through the scope. The truck was parked to the side of the road, there were soldiers loitering by a bush beside it._ _"Can you hit them?" He asked redundantly._ _It was tempting to scoff at him, but she remained focused. The wind was calm, and their brown uniforms stood out amidst the white, barren land. She had shot at longer distances as well._ _The first bullet struck the side of a neck. She calibrated the next shot, striking a head dead center. Content with the accuracy of her shots, she continued the motions of racking her rifle and firing with a rhythm._ _She let out a small breath as the last of the soldiers stopped moving, sweeping the rifle around to spot for anything she might have missed. Only then did she turn to her father, supporting his shoulder as they made their way to the truck._ _"Nadia, child." His voice weak, as blood trickled through the bandage on his chest. "I am sorry I brought this upon you."_ _She gave a question hum as she started the truck's engine, "Whatever you believe to be at fault for, I do not mind."_ _The drive went on in silence as she kept an eye out on the road, occasionally flicking to him._ _"Was I a good father?" He suddenly asked._ _She gave a mirthful smile at the odd question. "Ah ha, you must be too anemic to ask such strange things father."_ _"You were great," she continued after a moment. "This reminds me of that time we wrestled bears. I remember you having to pry one off me when their body gave out."_ _He gave a light chuckle, "Yes... yes. I remember that."_ _At that moment, she felt melancholic as lighthearted banter traded between them throughout the drive to the border._

 **Author's Note: I'm not sure where I'm going with this. Between finding the time to write and my hectic work schedule, the writing tends to be somewhat disjointed; a paragraph may be written at a time. Anyway, the power level is lacking to what I'm interested to.**


End file.
